SERMON 



DEATH OF WALTER L. RAYMOND, 

A UNION SOLDIER, 

DELIVERED ON SUNDAY, APRIL 3, 1865, 

BY 
BENJAMIN B. BABBITT, 

KCCTOB OF CHRIST CHUECH, ANDOVKB. 



ANDOVER: 
PRINTED BY WARREN F. DRAPER. 

1865. 



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V i~2 L' I 



OBITUARY. 



Walter Landor Raymond was born In Charles- 
town, Mass., Aug. 23d, 1846. When he was three 
years old his parents removed to Andover, Mass. 
He received his education in this town, graduating 
at the Punchard Free School In July, 1862. On the 
15th of the following August he enlisted in Co. G of 
the 44th Massachusetts Volunteers, In which his elder 
brother had also already been enrolled. The follow- 
ing letter of his father, addressed to Captain Hunt, 
consenting to his enlistment, shows the spirit whicb 
inspired both father and son : 

Andovek, Mass., Aug. 15th, 1862. 

Captain Huxt : 

My eldest son has enlisted in yoiir company. I send 
you his youn,i2:cr brother. He is, and always has been, in 
perfect liealth, of more than the ordinary power of endu- 
rance, honest, truthful, and courajj;eous. I doubt not you 
will find him on trial all you can ask, except his age, and 
that I am sorry to say is only sixteen ; yet if our country 
needs his service, take him. 

Your obedient servant, 

Samuel Raymond. 

The character which the father gave the son in 
this letter was not overdrawn, but has been fully 
borne out by his conduct since. Oct. 2 2d his regi- 
ment was ordered to North Carolina. He was in the 



4 ORITUARY. 

battle of Kinston, Dec. 14th, of Whitehall, Dec. 16th, 
and in the reserve at the battle of Goldsboro, Dec. 
19th. He went with the regiment subsequently on 
an expedition to Plymouth, Feb. 7th. He was taken 
sick the day before the regiment was ordered to 
Washington, falling down in the ranks when on dress 
parade on Saturday, March 14th. From that time 
till the regiment was discharged he was for the most 
part in the hospital, having not only the chills, but 
typhoid fever, and sore throat, closely bordering on 
diphtheria. He was discharged with his regiment in 
Boston, June 18th, 1863, after the completion of their 
term of enlistment of nine month. 

For about five months he remained at home re- 
cruiting his health, which was seriously impaired. In 
November he re-enlisted, as a veteran, in the 1st 
Massachusetts Cavalry. In Feburary 1864, with one 
hundred and twenty others, he left for camp Stoneman. 
In this camp the regiment was subjected to the most 
rigorous discipline and thorough drill. His regiment 
was attached to tlie second corps, and crossed the 
Kappahannock on the first of May, in that last move- 
ment on to Richmond, which proved successful nearly 
a year later, in the capture of that city, April 3d, 1865. 
His regiment took a prominent part, as is well known, 
in the hard fighting in the AVilderness, and then left 
the main body of the army under Sheridan for a raid 
in the rear of the rebel army, and towards Rich- 
mond. Daring this raid, which occupied eleven days, 
ten of which appears to have been spent in a constant 
successions of fights, until his arrival at Haxal's Land- 



OBITUARY. b 

incr, Walter was with that portion of General Sheri- 
dan's troops who went the nearest to Richmond, 
(retting within a mile and a half of the city. At the 
close of this raid, out of seventy-four horses, but thirty 
remained in his company. Out of the eight men in 
his own tent, only three were left. Starting with but 
three days rations, they tried to make them last ten 
days. So that when they fought, some days they 
were both hungry and tired; both men and horses 
having been twenty-four hours without food or rest. 

After remaining at Haxal's Landing some time to 
recruit, he, with his regiment, joined the army at Cold 
Harbor, and participated in the severe battles which 
have made that vicinity so famous. In these battles 
he lost his horse, and becoming dismounted was sent 
to White House Landing. The rebels made an attack 
on this place while he was there. On account of this 
attack he was temporarily mounted, and attached to 
the fifth division, with which he joined the main army 
on the James River. On the way down he was in 
a fight on the Chickahominy River. He was sent 
afterwards to the extreme left of General Grant's 
army on picket duty, where he rejoined his regiment. 
On the twenty-seventh day of July the regiment 
recrossed the James River, near Deep Bottom, and 
was engaged in two considerable fights, an account of 
which is given in his last letter home to his father. 

Aug. 19th, Edwin B. Daniels, orderly sergeant of 
his company, in a letter to his father, performed the 
painful duty of informing him of his son's capture 
three days previously, on the IGth, adding these 



6 OBITUARY. 

words : " The company has met with a great loss, for 
he was a general favorite with men and officers, and 
he will be missed by all." 

From the same officer, some fortnight later, we have 
an account of his capture as follows : 

" We started for our camp near Light House Point, 
the ni^ht of the 13 th of Auirust. We travelled all 
night, and on the morning of the 14th we were on 
the north side of the James River, at Deep Bottom. 
On the loth we made a forward move towards the 
Charles City Court House road. Being in the re- 
serve, all was quiet for us. On the morning of the 
16th, a detail came to our regiment for one t^quadron, 
to do escort duty for Gen. Miles. The squadron in 
which is Co. L Avas sent, and we were to act as his 
body-guard and as orderlies for him. We woke up 
the enemy, and drove them, a little at a tinie, for about 
four miles. Here they grew stubborn, and began to 
show their teeth, and the General would detail about 
six men in a gquad, and tell them to go out such a 
way, and see if they could find the Johnnies. Walter 
was in one squad, and he with one of Co. M's men, 
being rather adventurous, kept about a couple of rods 
in advance (it was in the woods, of light growth of 
wood, but heavy undergrowth of bushes, about as 
high as a man's head). There was a squad of men 
lying doAvn in the bushes, and these two rode on to 
them, and they rose up right round them. Walter 
turned round in his saddle and sung out to the men 
behind him, " Barnum, go back, quick ! The John- 
nies have caught Hurley and me." The rebels tried 



OBITUARY. 1 

to catch the rest, but being dismounted they could 
not." 

This timely warning which Walter gave his com- 
rades, is but one instance out of many hundreds of his 
many kind acts, and must have exposed him to the 
anger of his captors. On account of this action, at 
the time of his capture, his friends were for a long 
time fearful that he might have been killed on the 
spot. lie was, however, spared to endure a vastly 
greater amount of cruelty at the hands of the rebels, 
in his confinement at the Salisbury prison. 

From the date of Sergeant Daniel's letter until the 
18th of March his friends heard not a word from 
VV^ alter, when, after the general exchange, which had 
then been effected, they learned through Sergeant 
Kavanagh that he died in Salisbury prison, on Christ- 
mas-day, of severe pneumonia, contracted by sleep- 
ing on the ground in that terrible slaughter-house. 



Sergeant William Kavanagh, of whom mention is 
made in the following discourse as the ])erson who 
brings to us the report of ^Valter's last sickness and 
death, has been a noble soldier in the Union array 
from the beginning of the war. He enlisted in April 
1861, and served for two years in the 36th New York 
Regiment. He was with the Army of the Potomac 
from Bull Run till his term of enlistment was out. 
He won at Fredericksbur";" a "old medal, under Sedfj- 
WR-k, by being the first to plant the flag upon its 
heights. He was mustered out in June 1865. He 
came home to Boston, where in the following No- 
vember he re-enlisted as a veteran in the 1st Massa- 
chusetts Cavalry. 



8 OBITUARY. 

Sept. 16th, 1864, just a month from the time of 
Walter's capture, he Avas taken prisoner in a hand- 
to-hand skirmish, having been left senseless on the 
field. 

At Danville he led an attempt to break guard, and 
was bound with a chain and sent to Salisbury, where 
he met AValter and several of the members of his 
regiment, who were prisoners there. In a few days 
the prisoners managed to file off" with broken-edged 
knives the chains wliich bound Kavanagh. He was 
then bound with a chain and ball, which, after a week 
or so, they treated in like manner. Kavanagh then 
dug out under the walls of the prison, and with three 
others, one of them a negro, managed to get about a 
hundred and seventy miles away fiom his prison, and 
nearly to the end of his journey, before he was re- 
taken. He was afterward very sick for some time ; 
but, being a man of more than ordinary strength of 
constitution, he recovered even in the prison. 

He is of Irish birth and parentage, but has lived in 
this country for sixteen years. He has given us an 
exceedingly graphic and intelligible narrative of his 
imprisonment, a plain and interesting account of 
Walter's sickness and death, as well as a full account 
of his career as a soldier in the 1st Massachusetts 
Cavalry — an account in Avhich he agrees perfectly 
with A\'alter's letters. Waller's friends feel j)roround- 
ly grateful to him for his kindness to AValter during 
their common imprisonment, and especially for his 
kindness to him in his last sickness, and at the hour 
of death. Indeed, his evidently profound attachment 
to Walter, and respect for him, which can be dis- 
covered in all he says concerning him, has won for 
Kavanagh, in all our hearts, our fondest affection. 
We all say, God bless him ! 



SERMON.' 



BE THOU FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH, AND I WILL GIVE THEK A. 
CROWN OF LIFE. — Rev. ii. 10. 

HE whole verse is not without its 
significance on this occasion. " Fear 
"^^ none of those thinsfs which thou shalt 
^ sutler. Behold the Devil shall cast 
some of you into prison, that ye may be 
tried ; and ye shall have tribulation ten 
days. Be thou faithful unto death, and I 
will give thee a crown of life." 

Our young friend, whose name I would 
now mention with the profoundest respect 
and affection, — Walter Landor Raymond 

1 The following sermon was preached Sunday, April 3d, 1865, 
in Christ Church, Andover, as a memorial discourse for one 
who had not only been so heroic in action, and so noble in 
his death, but who had also been so inhumanly buried by the 
rebels at his death. The sermon is printed for the satisfaction 
of his friends. 



10 SERMON. 

— obeyed this injunction, suffering the tor- 
tures of a rebel prison, faithful even unto 
death. We may cherish the hope that his 
faithfuhiess to his flag was more than 
merely natural stubbornness ; that it grew 
out of Christian firmness. He was, on 
principle, devoted to the cause of his coun- 
try, for which he has so heroically died. 
Wherefore we may trust, that through the 
mercy of our God in Jesus Christ, he has 
received the crown of life. 

It is fit, my brethren and friends, that we 
should commemorate the death of one who 
so bravely fought, so patiently suffered, 
and so nobly died in his country's service. 
Not because he was a braver and a better 
man than many others who have gone forth 
to die on the field of battle, or in a rebel 
prison. No I we rejoice to believe that 
there are thousands in our armies as noble, 
as patient, as brave, as Christian, as faith- 
ful as he, who have remained, and if need 
be, are ready to remain faithful even unto 
death. Yea, thousands, both dead and 



SERMON. 11 

living, who will deserve of this country 
everlasting remembrance. 

But this young man stands nearer and 
closer to us, and is, in fact, to us the rep- 
resentative of all the rest. Of all who went 
forth to take a part in the great struggle 
which still devastates and endangers our 
country he is the only one from this con- 
gregation who has lost his life. He has 
lost his life, too, under such distressing cir- 
cumstances, by the slow torture of a rebel 
prison, from starvation. Jt was plainly 
the cruel neglect of his captors, inspired 
by this wilful, hard-hearted intention to so 
break down their prisoners, that they must 
either die or desert their country's flag, and 
espouse the cause of the wicked rebellion. 
He has so died, also, that we are cheated 
out of the dear privilege of rendering to 
him the homage which the Christian has 
ever loved to give to the mortal remains 
of his friends. Moreover, too, we know 
that although he deserved so well at our 
hands, yet he was denied even the rites of 



12 SERMOJT. 

a Christian burial by his enemies. He 
was treated as a beast, and buried with 
that contempt which showed the impotence 
of its demoniacal rage against the cause 
we love, by seizing that solemn occasion 
to vent itself. It is a sad privilege to fol- 
low a friend to the grave, and witness the 
last rites of Christian love. Next to this, 
is the privilege of knowing that others did 
this duty in our absence, if not with loving 
sympathy, at least with respect. But when 
denied even this last privilege, as we are in 
the case of our young friend, by fiends in 
human shape, who heap dishonor upon 
those whom their injuries cannot corrupt, 
we gather around what yet remains to us 
of him — his memory; recall his worth, 
and bury him in our hearts, erecting there 
a monument that cannot crumble, because 
built out of our own improvement in re- 
flecting upon his excellent life. 

Walter Raymond enlisted for the first 
time Aug. 15th, 1862, in what was afterward 
Co. G of the 44th Massachusetts Regiment, 



SERMON. 13 

at the early age of sixteen. With five of 
his comrades, who then enlisted with hitn, 
he was a member of my Bible class. He 
had always been a scholar in the Sunday- 
school. From childhood he had always 
exhibited peculiar energy, determination, 
and hardihood in all his undertakings. He 
had well improved his opportunities to 
acquire a thorough education, having grad- 
uated the July before at the Punchard 
Free School He had many qualifications 
for advancement in the army, but would 
have been prevented from rising high by 
a certain thickness of speech, which must 
have interfered with the intelligible pro- 
nunciation of the word of command. He 
had everything at home to make him de- 
sire to stay there. He was not of that fiery, 
demonstrative spirit, nor was he filled with 
that wild adventurous enthusiasm, which, 
to those that possess them, makes the life 
ol camp and the stirring scenes of the bat- 
tle-field so agreeable. He was not one of 
those who follow the bubble reputation to 



14 SEBMON. 

the cannon's mouth. Ambition was not a 
part of his character. Not one of the thou- 
sand motives which in the minds of men 
when they enter upon a soldier's life as- 
sume a questionable shape inspired his en- 
listment. He entered his country's service 
because he felt it his duty to obey her call, 
and after his return from his first term of 
service, for nine months, nothing could 
keep him from a re-enlistment, his sense of 
duty was so strong. He served his coun- 
try, therefore, with the inspiration which 
breathed out his life in his last words, " I 
die for God and my country." 

He went forth in that band of young 
men who were gathered in the 44th Massa- 
chusetts — the youthful pride and promise 
of our ancient commonwealth. When a 
young man has entered the army, oar 
minds instinctively seek to know how he 
met the hardships of the service. 

A careful examination of Walter's letters 
home, witness to the fact that, while our 
young friend keenly felt the privations of 



SERMON. 15 

a soldier's life, and with wonderful exact- 
ness narrates the incidents of self-denial 
forced upon him, he never complained. In 
vain have we searched all his letters for the 
first murmur or complaint against any 
man, officer, or fellow soldier. Not a harsh 
word of any sort w^hatsoever can be found 
in any one of his letters; not a harsh word 
against even the enemies of his country, 
against whom he was fighting. T say such 
a man must have been inspired with the 
noblest zeal which could carry the soldier 
to the battle-field. 

Again, as is natural, we would question 
how did he meet the temptations of a sol- 
dier's life ? Here, again, we have a most 
satisfactory report. His letters are those 
of a pure and uncorrupted heart, even to 
the last one received. He preserved in 
the camp the same integrity of character 
which he had exhibited at home. He had 
given his word at home that he would not 
smoke ; therefore, when in the midst of 
malarious swamps, and breathing pestilence, 



16 SERMON. 

though physicians and officers advised the 
soldiers to smoke, yet Walter wrote home 
to his mother: "A great many have com- 
menced to smoke ; but I shall not begin 
again without your permission, although I 
think it does a great deal of good. Please 
inform me in your next if you advise me 
to." We hear of him from all his comrades 
that he was always thus scrupulously pure, 
correct, and exact, and that his officers often 
commended his example to them. As long 
as he remained in active service after his 
second enlistment he bore the same char- 
acter, ever active in the performance of his 
own duty, and in helping his comrades do 
theirs. Afterwards he was found reading 
in his tent, as one tells us who was with 
him in his death and bears to us his words, 
and who had been with him in all his cav- 
alry service, he passed his time in reading 
pious little books. The lessons of home 
and of the Sunday-school were not for- 
gotten ; he carried his religion into his tent, 
and forgot it not on the battle-field. 



SERMON. 17 

Still once more, one always wishes to 
know how a young soldier meets the enemy, 
especially in his first battle. Walter writes : 
" We received orders to be ready in thirty- 
six hours. We packed up our knapsacks. 
That night, before going to bed, I read the 
twenty-first chapter of Luke and the collect 
for the second Sunday after Trinity, and I 
thought that they applied exactly to my 
position." The scripture read was the Sa- 
viour's prophecy concerning the destruction 
of Jerusalem and the end of the world, and 
his warning to watch and be always ready. 
The collect or prayer referred to was even 
more appropriate. In it he based his ap- 
peal to God upon the fact that he had 
been brought up in the church of Christ (it 
is a comfort to know that he remembered 
his church, as well as his God). The col- 
lect or prayer referred to is as follows : — 

" O Lord, who never failest to help and 
govern those whom thou dost bring up in 
thy steadfast fear and service, keep us, we 
beseech thee, under the protection of thy 



18 SERMON. 

good providence, and make us to have a 
perpetual fear and love of thy holy name, 
through Jesus Christ our Lord." 

During this same expedition, begun thus 
with prayer, and in which he was in several 
battles, he writes : "On one occasion I 
thought we were going into battle, and I 
prayed to God that he would watch over 
me, and if I was killed, receive my soul in 
heaven ; and I also prayed that I should 
not forget the cause I was fighting for, and 
turn my back in fear." How simple I how 
straightforward I how exactly to the pur- 
pose ! Surely his courage was not brutal 
recklessness. His courage was inspired by 
the cause — a courage for which he had 
prayed to God. Accordingly he said of his 
safety during this fight, " I was not struck, 
for I believe God was watching over and 
protecting me." 

In all his letters home he never lost sight 
of his God. His most common expression 
in closing his letters was, "with God's bless- 
ing, I remain yours," etc. Once when, 



SERMON. 19 

in his second term of service, in the first 
Massachusetts Cavalry, he went to the very- 
gates of Richmond, he says : " We have 
suffered terribly, but I do not complain 
when I see how gloriously everything is 
getting along." And again, when having 
been lost in the thick woods one dark night, 
and fortunately fallen upon our own pick- 
ets, he says of the incident : " Had it not 
been for God's guiding hand, I should have 
probably gone into the rebel lines." After 
the long and successful raid first mentioned, 
he says ; " With God's blessing and pro- 
tection, I am safe." After two severe bat- 
tles : " With God's kind care and protection, 
I have passed through these two fights, 
and remain yours," etc. And so he says in 
another place, " I believe we shall succeed, 
for I think God is on our side." 

When I take into consideration the fact 
that our friend in these letters tells us very 
little about his religious condition or senti- 
ment, and never moralizes or attempts any 
fine writing, but deals wholly in simple 



20 SERMON. 

facts, I regard such statements as these, 
made wholly in passing, as manifestations 
of his peculiarly sturdy, straightforward 
character, and so, as honestly setting forth 
his own views, and the exact belief he held 
in a personal God. These expressions, too, 
show that his belief in God governed his 
conduct as the unconscious instinct of his 
life, making him patient under the hard- 
ships of the soldier's life, proof against its 
corruptions, and courageous in the perform- 
ance of his duty. 

On the 16th of last August, just two 
years from his first enlistment, Walter was 
taken prisoner, carried to Kichmond, then 
to Belle Isle, and thence, in a few days, to 
Salisbury. From the time of his capture 
he w^as entirely lost to our view, until, on 
the 18th of March, his father heard from 
him that he had died on Christmas-day, 
after an imprisonment of a little more than 
four months. 

A rebel prison ! who can estimate its 
hardships but he that has endured them X 



SERMON. 21 

A rebel prison I in which out of ten thou- 
sand who entered it, about one half were 
within six months carried out in the dead- 
cart. This general statement ought to be 
enoufifh to suo-o^est to our minds the horrors 
of our friend's terrible position. We have 
no letters from him to tell us the story of 
his sorrows, " half revealed yet half con- 
cealed." Nothing to tell us how he felt as 
he perceived the desperation of his case. 
We are left to the reports of his comrades 
who endured the trial with him. 

With a keener relish than most men for 
the good things of the table, with a natural 
distaste for the meal with which he was 
fed, with more than the usual craving of 
the young for the food he loved, our friend 
was peculiarly unfitted to bear the hard- 
ships of a southern pjison. Did he, for all 
this, flinch at all in his loyalty to his God, 
or his country ? Did he swerve in his in- 
tegrity as a man ? Did he forget the lessons 
which he had learned in his childhood at 
home or in the Sunday-school ? No. 



22 SERMON. 

When the rebels kept the prisoners fast- 
ing for days, and then brought in tempting 
food, and even delicacies, for those who 
would desert their flag, and espouse their 
side, he answered, " I would rather be car- 
ried out in that dead-cart." When it was 
evident that his bodily health was failing, 
that the meal which he received was re- 
jected by his system, and that the syrup 
was all that was left to him for nourish- 
ment ; and when he sought in all honest 
ways to obtain an exchange of meal for 
syrup, and had failed, he appears to have 
been entirely above the temptation to 
which many others yielded, to steal form 
his fellow sufferers. One of his comrades 
tells us, " I told him he must steal, as I did, 
or he would die." Walter replied, " Ko ; 1 
was not brought up to that." And so, says 
the same man, " He died, because he was 
too simple to live." 

We have another of his comrades here 
with us to-day, one who received his last 
message, who caught his last breath and 



SERMON. 23 

bears it to us full of the spirit of his life, 
who tells us of the details of his last sick- 
ness and death. He began to show signs 
of sickness just after the first of December ; 
a fortnight later nausea set in ; severe 
pneumonia siezed him. One morning when 
his companions waked, Raymond was ap- 
parently still asleep, but the hand of death 
was upon him; he lay in a profound stupor 
all the morning. His companions sat be- 
side him all that morning, nursing him with 
those few and scanty means within their 
reach, now washing him with water, and 
now so placing the block of wood or the 
brick beneath his head as to give him ease. 
That day was Christmas-day. They sat 
there and watched him as his life ebbed 
slowly away, until, about two o'clock, he 
roused himself, stretched out his hand, drew 
to his side his dearest friend among those 
around him, and said, in a strong, clear 
voice, " I am going to die. Go tell my 
father I am ready to die ; for I die for 
God and my country"; and then looking 
up with a fond and heavenly smile, he died. 



24 SERMON. 

In the glory of those words rebel prison, 
rebel fare, rebel insults, are all forgotten. 
That mean and miserable tent was the 
gate of heaven. Those starving and naked 
companions, startled, saw a vision of an- 
gelic beauty. They went down so close 
to paradise as to hear its whispers and to 
snuff the fragrance of its spicy groves. 

Think you not that such a man as this 
was, — whose integrity was so constant, 
whose trust in God was so firm, who suf- 
fered such a terrible trial of imprisonment, 
without yielding in the least, and who 
stood firm to the end, and died, in the con- 
fidence of his God, for the cause of his 
country, — think you not tliat such a man 
reaped the promised reward of the just ? 
Most surely he did I He was faithful unto 
death ; and so we doubt not God has given 
to him a crown of life. 

Just after his second enlistment he 
avowed his intention, on his return, to take 
upon himself, in confirmation, the vows 
of his baptism, and to stand forth in the 



SERMON. 25 

church a Christian man. This announce- 
ment, when made by such an one as Wal- 
ter was, was enough. His word would not 
have been violated. He has done nothing 
in all his service since but what is perfectly 
consistent with this intention. Underneath 
all his action there evidently was a strong 
and deep current of religious feeling, which 
made his most intimate friend in the army 
say of him, " he was very religious, all the 
time reading religious books." It was 
plain the terrible scenes through which he 
passed, both before and after his imprison- 
ment, softened rather than hardened his 
heart, deepened rather than effaced his re- 
ligious impressions. 

He had grown to be tall and command- 
ing in form. The discipline and training 
of the army had made him straight and 
martial in his bearing. He was beloved by 
all : a son to be proud of, a friend to be 
esteemed, a man that we could not well 
spare. But God took him ; and do we not 
believe that he took him from us for good ? 



26 SERMON. 

Yes, verily, we bow to his wisdom and to 
his will, for we know his love. 

Our friend died for no common cause. 
It is sweet to die for ones country ; but 
when the standard of that country is the 
symbol not only of its own liberties, but 
of human rights, the brotherhood of man, 
and Christian progress, it is then, indeed, 
glorious to die for that standard. The 
fond and heavenly look which lighted up 
that gloomy tent last Christmas-day, tells 
us what he thought at that moment of 
such a death as he was dying. 

Our friend died nobly ! The glory of 
the battle-field, the thunder of artillery, the 
shout of victory, the desparing shriek of 
retreating and defeated foes, have made 
many a gory bed seem bright and re- 
splendent with honor. But the firmness 
and constancy required to endure the ter- 
rible scenes of the prison at Salisbury far 
excel the heroism of an excited contest, 
where every one is urging on his neighbor 
to the strife with the shout of the battle 



SERMON. 27 

cry ; where one fights under the sympa- 
thetic inspiration of ten thousand men, all 
moved by the impulse given to them by 
one man, all stirred with one word of com- 
mand from one loved and honored leader, 
urged on to the fray by his voice, trumpet- 
tounged, amid waving banners, advancing 
columns, the stimulating whiz of bullets 
sounding close by, and the thunder of the 
distant artillery, mingled with the shout of 
victory. The heroism that makes a man 
bold and effective as a soldier in such an 
hour, may utterly fail him when, lying low 
on a bed of wasting sickness, he shivers 
under a scanty blanket, with only a tent to 
shelter him from the wintry storm, attend- 
ed by fellow prisoners who are cowed and 
broken down with hunger; even the sight 
of the old flag denied him ; hungry, neg- 
lected, insulted, despised, with no voice 
but that of a woeful melancholly gloom to 
sound in his ears. Wherefore, to die, as 
our friend died, in the midst of such scenes, 
boldly, cheerfully, and triumphantly, with 



28 SERMON. 

a word of comfort sent to his far-off friends, 
and a smile upon his face, is more glorious 
than to brave and endure a thousand deaths 
upon the battle-field. I say, then, our friend 
died nobly. Let us give him to-day a noble 
funeral in our hearts, bury him in our 
memories, and emulate his zeal for his 
country, and, above all, his firmness for 
God and the right. 

Our friend carried his heart safely, fixed 
on his God. He was. eminently a man of 
deeds, rather than words ; of facts, not of 
sentiments. Like the lightning's flash, such 
men do their work before they tell their 
story in noisy words. He made himself 
felt as a religious man, without talking 
about religion. He was prepared for death, 
without making much ado about prepara- 
tion. He was daily trained in the reflec- 
tion that God is near, and that he might 
die at any moment. The familiar thought 
rooted itself deeply into his soul. Where- 
fore, when he spoke of it, he dealt with it 
as a fact; he acted upon it as a reality. 



SERMON. 29 

To him religion was action ; prayer a posi- 
tive law, as regular as the law of gravita- 
tion ; and God's providence a thing to be 
trusted in. Walter's was a nature for just 
this kind of religion. 

Now such religion as this has its defects. 
None of us are perfect. All have some 
besetting sin. Every kind of manhood is 
liable to peculiar failings of its own. Where- 
fore, after all, as for ourselves, so also for 
all men, we are bound to rely upon our 
blessed Saviour for the pardon of our sins, 
and so for our acceptance with God. We 
know that in him our whole trust must be 
placed, and that when our hearts are thus 
stayed on him there is to us a certain and 
a sure hope. 

Wherefore, trained as our friend was, 
from his baptism in infancy, to the recog- 
nition of this truth of Christ; retaining, as 
he did, the associations and instructions 
of his childhood and home, so fondly and 
so decidedly ; so silent and retentive as he 
would naturally be among those whose 



30 SERMON. 

sympathy he could not rely on ; a man of 
such few words on so tender a topic as 
the heart's love,' — we are satisfied to ac- 
cept what he has written, and the last 
word which he sent to us, as evidence — 
though brief and concise, yet sustained by 
his telling life and death — as evidence to 
the point, and amply sufficient too, to 
show that his heart was right, and that he 
looked to his God, as he had always been 
taught to look to him from his childhood, 
only through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

So let us, my friends, remember our duty, 
and follow the injunction of the text, ever 
faithful, even unto death. Let us hold fast, 
my young friends, the thought of God, the 
integrity of an honest life, the sturdy reso- 
lution of one who will not falter from his 
word when it is gone out of his mouth. 
So, too, let us be ready to give our word 
to the cause of Christ, and to the faithful 
oaths of a true soldier and servant of both 
oar country and our God. For if we do 
this then, together with him whose life and 



SERMON. 31 

death we have now reviewed, we shall at 
last be ready to die. Our sins shall then 
no more rise up against us. In the blood 
of Christ they shall be forever washed 
away, and we, accepted with Christ, shall 
receive the crown of life, because we have 
been faithful even unto death. 

I think, my friends and hearers, that you 
will all join with me in the sentiment and 
the prayer of the following "hymn, as ex- 
pressive of the spirit of this occasion. 

HYMN. 

THE CHRISTIAN PATRIOT'S PRAYER. 

God of our fathers, in whose name 
We raise our standard from the dust; 

Be thou witli us, e'en now the same 
As e'er of old, both good and just. 

Hear thou our cry! We mourn, we grieve, 

War's unrelenting cruel strife : 
From fierce and bloody foes relieve 

Our nation's hopes, our nation's life. 

Hear thou the prisoijer's groaning cry ! 

Hear thou the wounded's shriek! 
Hear thou ! for deathly gasps pass by. 

Hear thou ! for gaping wounds do speak. 



32 HYMN. 

Hear thou the plea of sinners' tears, — 
Is not the blood of ancient wronjis 

Now cleansed? Must our repentant fears 
Wait longer still for peaceful songs ? 

God, speed thou the right in haste! 

Our best, our noblest blood we give; 
But that we mourn no saddening waste 

By death, oh let our nation live! 

But let it live in righteousness; 

Upright and strong in Christian grace; 
No longer build our happiness 

On injuries done a toiling race. 

Oh let our motto be impressed 
On golden coins, with freedom's bust: 

Oh let our gathering wealth be blessed; 
For now 'tis true " In God we trust." 



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